


Night on Serenno

by ASadHermitStory



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempted Seduction to the Dark Side, Captivity, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Pre-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Serenno (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:19:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASadHermitStory/pseuds/ASadHermitStory
Summary: Surely the Jedi would know if the Republic was about to become so grievously compromised from within. But if they didn’t…if it were true…“Then your entire existence has been a cruel deception,” Dooku’s deep, regal voice murmurs, low and caressing, like silk across Qui-Gon’s inner ear.
Relationships: Dooku/Qui-Gon Jinn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20
Collections: May the 4th Be With You Star Wars Fanworks Exchange 2020





	Night on Serenno

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



Night falls on Serenno.

The temperature of the air does not change this close to the equator, nor does the greenish ambient light provided by unknown sources fade. Nevertheless, Qui-Gon knows that night has fallen. He feels it in the Force, the bustling rhythms of daytime life slowing to stillness and silence, interrupted only by the occasional, weak burst of furtive activity, like the glimmer of a single star across the black vacuum of space.

The relative peace and quiet has given Qui-Gon plenty of time to think. He cannot escape his thoughts, in fact, no more than he can escape this imprisonment. At present, he sits on the cold stone flags of an ancient dungeon, his wrists and ankles electrostatically bound. It is not a good situation by any means, and given the near-violent differences of opinion, Qui-Gon has every reason to expect worse.

_What if I told you a Dark Lord of the Sith were on the brink of taking control of the Galactic Senate?_

Dooku said that, but he must be lying, lying brazenly. He’d chosen to leave the Jedi Order and to become one of the Lost. But now he is lost, lost truly, reduced to sowing seeds of doubt, mistrust, and discord in Qui-Gon’s mind. Surely the Jedi would know if the Republic was about to become so grievously compromised from within. If they didn’t…if it were true…

“Then your entire existence has been a cruel deception,” Dooku’s deep, regal voice murmurs, low and caressing, like silk across Qui-Gon’s inner ear. Qui-Gon stiffens as a phantom hand cups his cheek. “We used to be close, former apprentice mine. Serve the Force once again at my side! The Council does not respect you. You’ve become a pariah. With me, you could regain your purpose.”

“I have purpose,” Qui-Gon retorts. But his flesh tingles at the sensation of touch, and he aches. Old heartache, secret yearnings never spoken, never acknowledged, not even to himself, and a different kind of ache altogether, urgent and sweet, racing along his nerve endings and settling lower…

_I will never join you._

Qui-Gon said that. The words were heated, and they got him thrown in the dungeon to cool off. If he’s honest, though, he isn’t sure what he said was true. Dooku is right that he chafes beneath the restrictions placed upon him by the Council, that he disagrees with their methods. And Qui-Gon did come when Dooku invited him here. Was that not indicative of enduring loyalty to his former teacher?

“Yes, Qui-Gon, I could be for you now what I was for you then,” Dooku says. “And I could be _more_.”

The voice is like a warm, dark pool, and Qui-Gon wants to submerge himself within it. The Order’s current rigid interpretation of the Code troubles him, and at times he wonders if he erred in taking on Obi-Wan as an apprentice. He feels insufficient as a teacher. If he could be properly mastered once more…oh! Phantom kisses on his throat, fingers stroking his chest, his belly, exploring the sparse hair there, thickening where the most urgent, needful heat is concentrated. Qui-Gon moans, arching his hips, tingling, and the touch, feather-light, slips behind, between, _inside—_

It is thick and long as it settles. The galaxy seems to pause, with bated breath, and then, it begins to thrust—

_You must join me, Qui-Gon, and together, we will destroy the Sith!_

“No! I will not! I will not join with you.”

The sensation of fullness subsides abruptly. Qui-Gon takes one shaking breath and holds it. He exhales and takes another. Slowly but surely, he works toward centering himself again in the Force, focusing on the natural peace and stillness of the Serennoan night. He is a Jedi, and he will not betray his vocation. Not even for Dooku.

In the morning, Dooku unlocks the dungeon door. Although his face seems sad, they discuss the matter no further, and he lets Qui-Gon leave his castle.


End file.
